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Ghost Hunters & Hell Raisers
(2027)(The tenth book in the Forty, Fired, & Fighting Demons series)
A novel by Brenda Trim
Forty, finally getting married, and stupid enough to think the universe might let me have one nice thing.
The Bellweather Hotel has been rotting on its bluff since before I was born, and the islanders all agree it's haunted. They're wrong. It's not haunted—it's holding something. I found the binding after the thing inside wore the faces of our dead and walked the island emptying houses, one family at a time. My great-great-grandmother wove the binding into the hotel's bones a hundred years ago, and she left exactly one instruction.
Do not open the room.
So naturally, a TV crew showed up to open the room. On a livestream. For ratings.
Now the Gentleman is loose, and he doesn't rampage—he borrows. He'll wear the neighbor you buried last winter. The friend you grieved. The grandmother you'd follow into hell. He's been in my kitchen drinking my coffee out of a face I trusted, and he's building toward a live broadcast that'll do two things at once: show the whole world that monsters are real, and harvest every soul on my island while the cameras roll.
I can fight almost anything, but I can't fight everyone I love. And the only way to tell the real from the worn is the one thing I've spent my whole life bricking up tighter than that ballroom wall''my true, useless, un-performable heart. A demon can copy it a thousand ways and never actually be it.
The Gentleman thinks I'm just the woman the island keeps because I'm useful. He's about to learn what I truly am when the wall comes down.
Mimi's loading Bessie. Zane married the version of me who walks into the fire. And somewhere beneath a sea of stolen faces, there's a being that gambled my entire island on the chance that I'd rather die than let anyone see me.
What a terrible bet. Some doors should never be opened. We're all about to learn why.
Genre: Horror
The Bellweather Hotel has been rotting on its bluff since before I was born, and the islanders all agree it's haunted. They're wrong. It's not haunted—it's holding something. I found the binding after the thing inside wore the faces of our dead and walked the island emptying houses, one family at a time. My great-great-grandmother wove the binding into the hotel's bones a hundred years ago, and she left exactly one instruction.
Do not open the room.
So naturally, a TV crew showed up to open the room. On a livestream. For ratings.
Now the Gentleman is loose, and he doesn't rampage—he borrows. He'll wear the neighbor you buried last winter. The friend you grieved. The grandmother you'd follow into hell. He's been in my kitchen drinking my coffee out of a face I trusted, and he's building toward a live broadcast that'll do two things at once: show the whole world that monsters are real, and harvest every soul on my island while the cameras roll.
I can fight almost anything, but I can't fight everyone I love. And the only way to tell the real from the worn is the one thing I've spent my whole life bricking up tighter than that ballroom wall''my true, useless, un-performable heart. A demon can copy it a thousand ways and never actually be it.
The Gentleman thinks I'm just the woman the island keeps because I'm useful. He's about to learn what I truly am when the wall comes down.
Mimi's loading Bessie. Zane married the version of me who walks into the fire. And somewhere beneath a sea of stolen faces, there's a being that gambled my entire island on the chance that I'd rather die than let anyone see me.
What a terrible bet. Some doors should never be opened. We're all about to learn why.
Genre: Horror